Chains Unbound
by Anonymous Hijink
Summary: There were times when even she didn't didn't know what she wanted despite (or perhaps because of) her simple nature; but in that moment, when the ancient witch asked for her wish, her answer was easy. "Freedom." (Mostly follows Tsubasa Manga)
1. Shackled Hope

**I meant to have this up last month.  
**

**Oh well, two chapters by way of apology.**

* * *

Shouts and jeers filled the hall, almost drowning out the screams and tears.

Men and women of varying ages were assembled upon the raised benches, each adorned in fine dress and expensive, gaudy jewels; surrounded on all sides was a raised dais upon which perched an ancient archway and a fluttering, ethereal veil; The Veil. Currently stood before The Veil were a small party of men and women, only seven in total; five bearing a uniform of crimson robes, one man a dark suit, and the last wore a dark cloak over a simple black gown.

The group in the crimson robes were there to guard the suited man, and to subdue the cloaked woman if necessary; few of their number looked at all pleased to be there. Each was fit and muscled, though some more heavily than others, and armed with any number of weapons. One of the men, dark of skin and hair and bearing a fierce scowl upon his brow, fixed his dark eyes on the prisoner; apologetic.

The suited man, all but oozing piousness and greed, gave an oily smile around the room, opening his mouth to speak.

The prisoner, the woman in the cloak and gown, kept her head down and hands folded before her, ignoring the words that were spoken, the yells and jeers and heartfelt sobs from the stands.

They all knew what they were here for; some wanted a show, others didn't wish to be present, but most merely wanted this farce to be over with. Many of the spectators, and all bar two of the participants, were well aware of the true reasons for this gathering; no matter what the Minister had preached for weeks on end.

Finally the man ended his speech, blissfully unaware of how few of the glares filling the hall were directed to the prisoner, and declared the beginning of the end of the meeting; the execution they had all been ordered to attend.

Any protests that may have been voiced fell upon deaf ears as the woman was marched to The Veil; she strode into it without so much as a glance back at the world she was being thrown from.

**Shackled Hope**

It was dark here, she thought, eyes unable to pierce the hazy veil; even if her sight had been clear she wouldn't have been able to see anything, for there was nothing here to be seen.

She wondered briefly how long she had been here, in this place between; she dismissed the idle thought mere moments (or was it hours or no time at all?) later, choosing instead to ponder on the state of things back where she had been. Such thoughts didn't last long (or did they linger an eternity?) before her mind focused upon less painful avenues.

In silence she waited, though she knew not for what; in nothingness she floated, though she knew not why anymore.

She had no idea how long she had floated in this place when the monotony was broken by a blinding flash of light, a swirling of vibrant colour and an unfamiliar pressure that dragged at her form, teasing her cloak and the skirt of her dress and the few wisps of hair that had escaped her hood. A foreign sound, strange and rasping, filled her ears as she felt the pulling of a travel spell grasp her being; a foreign feeling, fragile and strong and bright and dark, filled her heart as she was wisped from this nameless void that had been her prison.

There was a rush of sound, startling in its intensity; then there was something solid beneath her feet and something wet soaking through her cloak. Another rasping sound spilled from her lips as she raised one hand to the sky, watching with child-like fascination as bead after bead of water reached her skin.

She stilled at the soft sound of footsteps behind her, letting her face fall back from the expression it had pulled itself into; swallowing a deep breath, she turned to see a boy, stood there with a look of utter bafflement.

Shaking his head of dark hair, blinking his eyes behind their glasses, the boy muttered something beneath his breath; finally, he gazed at her and smiled gently. "I'm Kimihiro Watanuki; are you here to see Yuko-san?"

She blinked back at him, at this Kimihiro Watanuki, and dropped her head faintly to the right; the motion familiar and easy. "Why would I be here to see this 'Yuko-san'?"

"That's the way it works." He explained simply, shrugging. "The magic around the shop means that only those who have a reason to be here will be; so you must be here to see Yuko-san." Watanuki canted his head curiously back at her. "Aren't you going to give your name?"

"My… name?" She returned, head slipping the other way without conscious thought, she supposed that made it habitual; her brows furrowed in thought as she mulled this strange boy's question over. "Hope," she decided after a time; recalling a prophecy heard long ago. "My name is hope."

Let him make of it what he would.

"And what is it that you want, Hope?" A female voice questioned softly, Watanuki doing a strange flail-hop-spin dance as he screamed; Hope breathed out another of the odd, rasping breaths, lips pulling up in an unfamiliar expression. "What is your Wish?"

Hope canted her head (though she didn't gaze towards the voice), feeling a loose braid shift over her shoulder in the process; she was a simple person, and had never wanted much out of her life. Still, there were times when even she didn't know what she wanted despite (or perhaps _because_ of) her simple nature; but in that moment, when the ancient witch (though how she knew this with such certainty was rather a mystery to her) asked for her wish, her answer was easy. "Freedom," She breathed out softly, "My wish is for freedom."


	2. Convergance

It wasn't exactly uncommon for Kimihiro Watanuki's duties to begin with finding a customer stood in front of Yuko's shop; finding said customer standing in the rain, raspy laughter (as though they hadn't given voice to such a sound in a _very_ long time), hand raised to the sky – that was somewhat unusual; most of the customers he had seen during his tenure had either entered the shop much as he himself had, or known of the place before entering.

He watched for a moment, noting the strangeness of the customers dress (a heavy cloak with a raised hood and a hem that fell to what he estimated to be the figures ankles, about an inch of sodden silk visible where it pooled about hidden feet; the part time worker thought that perhaps the new customer might be female, but their attire, combined with the weather (which oddly enough wasn't dampening him any) and angle he was viewing them from, made it rather difficult to tell for certain.); Watanuki rather suspected the woman (if the figure was indeed such) was wearing something that wouldn't have looked out of place in medieval Europe.

Coming to a decision, the teenager stepped forwards, his shoes crunching faintly against the ground; he came to a stop as the customer tensed sharply beneath the sodden cloak. A moment of stillness lay between them, then they turned to face Watanuki, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

**Convergence**

The face beneath the hood was gaunt, the cheeks hollow and the skin an unhealthy shade of white-yellow, though it was obvious that the woman (and he could see now that she was such) had once been quite beautiful, with jewel coloured eyes (darkened now by whatever she had experienced) and long black hair tied back in a messy sort of braid; several strands having escaped there binds to fall over an obsidian covered shoulder (thin in a way that the part timer severely doubted had anything to do with genetics; he quite doubted that she had seen any food in quite some time).

He breathed a faint curse under his breath; part of him wondering just what the woman had been through to give her such a look, the rest of him dearly did not want to know. "I'm Kimihiro Watanuki;" He began with a gentle smile, careful not to seem at all threatening; "are you here to see Yuko-san?" He knew the answer, of course, everyone who came to the shop came to see Yuko; the question was whether or not she knew.

She blinked those shadowed Emerald eyes and canted her hooded head of dark hair. "Why would I be here to see this 'Yuko-san'?" The words, Watanuki noted, weren't so much spoken as rasped; he made an effort to reel in his anger at that.

"That's the way it works." He explained simply, shrugging. "The magic around the shop means that only those who have a reason to be here will be; so you must be here to see Yuko-san." Watanuki canted his head curiously back at her. "Aren't you going to give your name?"

"My… name?" She returned, head slipping the other way, she remained silent for several moments, and then; "Hope, my name is hope."

He thought perhaps that there was a strange emphasis on the way she said that; but there was no time for him to truly contemplate that, as Yuko herself appeared quite unannounced, and he flailed about to face her.

"And what is it that you want, Hope?"

The wish granter gazed at her latest customer curiously, this was most unexpected. "What is your Wish?"

The girl (though really she could have been any age at all; her shadowed features, the obvious – though admittedly well hidden – malnutrition, and the harsh rasp of her voice all telling of a different age) tipped her head (and Yuko noticed with a very faint frown that she didn't turn her gaze towards the Dimensional Witch). A long moment of silence drifted between them all (Watanuki flailing about per usual), then she spoke with easy assurance; "Freedom, my wish is for freedom." And she finally turned towards Yuko; just as a great power began to bubble from the clouds and drop to the ground.

'_Of all the times…'_ Yuko thought, perhaps ungraciously, watching as the pair's transportation spell broke apart; a boy and a girl, about the same age, cradled in his arms. The woman is watching them too, what might be trepidation lining her haggard features.

The boy (and oh, but his face is so familiar) gazes up at her from where he is knelt to the ground, amber eyes desperate and pleading. "Are you the witch of dimensions?"

"I have been called that." Yuko admitted eyes flicking briefly back to her other customer, the woman seeming content to remain aside for the time being, watching the two children with what is most defiantly apprehension; her attention is dragged sharply back to the pair of newcomers with the boy's next words:

"Please," he all but screams, "help save Sakura!"

Yuko is silent for a time, assessing the pair and weighing out how to handle the situation. "This child's name is 'Sakura', correct?" She finally asks of the boy, barely acknowledging his faintly hesitant 'yes'. "And yours is?"

"It's Syaoran." He's eyeing her with a mixture of desperation and fear, but he is at the least slightly less frantic now, so the ancient witch counts the mundane questioning a success for the time being and moves on to the reason the desperate soul is here in the first place; moving to gently place a hand over the unconscious girl's forehead and channelling a touch of her magic to review the events leading to her state.

She briefly battles back a frown at the length that the meddlesome fool has insisted on going to, and only speaks again when she is certain that her voice will remain neutral. "This child has lost something very important to her, yes?" She again ignores his confirmation, continuing gravely. "And that thing was scattered across various worlds. If she continues to be like this, this child will die."

She allows the boy a moment to come to terms with the gravity of the situation, rising from the crouch she had assumed previously and turning to Watanuki and the woman choosing to be addressed as Hope, the former looking faintly confused and the latter bearing an expression of grave neutrality, though her brilliantly coloured eyes burn with a fierce, impartial anger; perhaps she has guessed what had happened to the child. "Watanuki!" Yuko snaps at her assistant, bringing the teenager to attention. "Go to the safe, there's something I need there." She orders, watching from the corner of an eye as the boy nods and jogs off towards the store room, Maru and Moru meeting him at the door and half dragging him along by an arm apiece. "Do you want to help that child?"

It doesn't surprise her in the least when he responds with an immediate, quietly resolute, "Yes."

"There will be a price." Yuko states as much as warns. "Even so?"

If anything that only makes the boys expression firm into complete, single minded purpose. "If there's anything I can do, I'll do it!" He swears resolutely.

There comes a soft huff from the single remaining spectator, though the woman's hooded head is turned in the direction that the pair of soulless creations and single assistant had vanished; Syaoran turns in her direction sharply, though weather his attention is attracted by the quiet sound or the less than subtle gathering of power, not even Yuko knows for sure. Hope, too, shifts her attention, hands drifting beneath her cloak and shuffling a half step backwards.

"They're coming." The witch of dimensions declares with no little amount of satisfaction, and perhaps a touch of amusement as her other customers twitch defensively; Syaoran holding the girl closer and Hope drawing in on herself in an effort to make herself seem smaller, a faint trickle of power brushing over her shadowed figure, though to what effect Yuko couldn't be certain, as two bubbles of power shifted into this dimension. One from the sky revealing a fair haired figure clad in pale hues, while the one that rose from beneath the earth showed a dark figure dressed in armour.

The pair manages to make their questions mostly clear, despite the fact that they speak half over each other – the black one rudely demanding her identity whilst the fairer of the pair politely inquires her title. She gestures for the dark one to begin after the new comers share a glance that is one part polite curiosity and one part distrustful glower.

He stares between the blond and Yuko for a moment before obligingly stating his question. "I'm Kurogane. But, where the hell are we?" The man all but growls, grumbling under his breath, "And what are those building around us?" as he gazes up at the office buildings that surround Yuko's little patch of tradition.

"Japan…" She drawls with a hidden smirk, watching with some amusement as he turns away with a twitching eyebrow.

"Well, I just came from Japan, and this isn't it!"

"A different Japan." Yuko amends mildly, thoroughly disregarding his declaration of not understanding, turning her attention to the blond. "You?"

He quirks a polite smile and bows. "I am but a humble Celes country wizard: Fai D. Flowright; and this is a place where you grant wishes at a proper or higher price, correct?"

Yuko's half tempted to smile at the wizard and half tempted to strangle him at the faint rustle from the direction that Hope still stands in; when she spares the girl a glance she has crept nearer to the group, cautious curiosity filling her brilliant Emerald eyes. "That is correct, and since you are all here, that means all of you have some sort of wish."

Hope gives a very faint hum from where she now stands a step back and three aside from the blond wizard; eyes holding a subdued sort of understanding, and Yuko wonders what she had discovered – besides how to keep herself dry.

Again the pair of men manages to speak over each other; one wishing to return home, the other the opposite, exchange polite stare and murderous glare once more and Yuko ignores them. "That's a hard thing, for both of you." She says, before her gaze drifts to other two paying customers. "No, for all of you. Those wishes you have, if you were to pay separately, it wouldn't be enough… but, if you were to pay together, it might just barely be enough."

She can tell that three quarters of the group have realised her intentions, the last of them however…

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kurogane snarled.

Fai casually flapped a hand at the other man. "Please be quiet, Black." The blond managed to earn himself an explosion from 'Black' and a soft huff from Hope, Syaoran didn't seem to particularly notice and Yuko barely spared the pair an eye roll.

"You each have the same wish; you, child, desire to travel to different worlds to collect this girls memories, whilst from a different world, you wish to go back to your own, and the both of you desire to live in a world other than your own." She completely ignored the confusion of the two men, briefly glancing towards Hope, the power that still cloaked her shifting faintly as she inclined her head agreeably. "Though your purposes are different, the means are the same; you have different reasons for why you wish to go to different worlds. Each one of your wishes, I can't grant alone; but if you each give me your most precious item, you can go to different worlds together."

Silence fell upon the garden for a long moment before the dark one spoke grudgingly. "What do I have to give you?"

The witch of dimensions didn't so much as bat an eyelash, and a part of Fai was somewhat envious of her composure, as she nodded towards the sword the man had yet to sheath. "That sword."

A beat of silence followed, and then; "WHAT!" Kurogane shrieked, "I'll never hand over my silver dragon!"

"Fine then," The ancient witch declared, clearly deciding to have some fun with the overreacting man. "In exchange, you can roam around looking like a cosplayer, violate weapon laws, get arrested by the police, and be interviewed on television." From the dark man's confused 'Eh?' at least half the terms the woman was using were as unfamiliar to him as they were to Fai. "I'm the only one in this world able to send you to another." She added mildly with a shrug.

"BULLSHIT!" The man yelled at the witch who presently resembled a particularly devious fox.

Fai briefly bit back a smile, deciding to aid in rattling the other man. "It's true."

A moment and a question of confirmation (which Fai answered with a cheerful nod) later and the dark man snarled an acquiescence, snapped his sword into its sheath and all but shoved it into the Witch's face. "When this curse is gone, I will definitely return for it!"

_Really,_ Fai thought with a sweat drop, _one would think he was being asked to hand over an arm._

The Witch took the sheathed blade with a delicate application of magic and turned over a shoulder to address Fai. "Your price," She declared neutrally, "is that tattoo."

He remains silent a moment, "Will this wand not do?" He questions in a half-hearted attempt at negotiating.

"I said," She returned sternly, "the price is your most valuable thing." Clearly, she would not be swayed.

"I guess I have no other choice then…" He murmured rather ruefully, and with some regret, Fai D. Flowright, Wizard of Celes, relinquished his tattoo as payment for his freedom.

The Dimensional Witch accepts Fai's price and turns to his left; the blond casts a curious glance in the same direction also, giving a start at the silent, shadowy figure stood unnoticed in the yard. He spared a moment to wonder at its presence, and what that figures wish may have been; they and the pair of children had both arrived and stated their wishes before he and the dark brute had arrived so he had no idea as to the cause of her presence.

"And mine?" The figure queries mildly, voice soft and feminine; slender hands folding before her torso. Fai noted absently that her knuckles were already white.

"You are difficult." The Witch murmurs in return, crimson eyes fixing solely on the soaked figure.

The figures shifts with an unrepentant shrug, tucking her hands away below the thick cloak draped about her slender shoulders. "As I have always been and shall always remain." She retorts with a subtle note of mischief.

Several moments of pressing silence drag out between the two conscious females; then the elder of the pair comes to a decision. "Your cloak," she declares, tipping her chin at the heavy fabric.

While it didn't sound like much in exchange for the ability to move between dimensions (apparently the means to fulfilling her wish) the girl looks faintly stricken as she pushes back the hood and unfastens a hidden clasp; green gaze mournful as she folds the cloth and holds it out to the Dimensional Witch. "Take it," she orders shortly, "before I change my mind."

The Witch heads the child, drawing her payment close in the same manner as she had both Fai and the other man's payments before it. "And you, child?" She wonders as she turns back to the pair crouched between the wizard and the recently disarmed man in black. "What is the most precious thing that you own? And are you prepared to give it me in order to go to another world?"

The boy gazed at the girl in his hold tenderly, clearly the pair are close and Fai has a sinking feeling that he knows what price will be asked of them; but the boy merely gazes up at the Witch of Dimensions. "Yes," is all that he says, though there is a world of determination in the single syllable.

"Your price has not been told and yet you already agree to give it to me?"

"Yes," the boy repeats grimly.

"I can only give you the means to travel the paths between worlds; you must search for this child's memories by yourself." The Witch warns neutrally, and Fai hears a sharp intake of muffled breath to his other side; a briefly curious glance shows that the green eyed woman has fisted her hands in the skirt of her dress, a light of fury sparking behind her dark eyes.

For a moment the boy doesn't speak and then, for the third time, he says "yes".

"Good." The woman smiles softly, as though the boys will pleases her. "You are prepared."

There is the distant sound of feet pounding wood, and a young man and two small girls come sprinting into the yard. "There's more?!" The man exclaims softly as he approaches.

"Here he comes." The Witch murmurs just within hearing, expression melting back into neutrality, accepting the small white creature that the man carries. "This is Mokona Modoki; she'll take you to different dimensions."

Before she can continue, Kurogane gestures for the near identical being still cradled in the shopkeeper's assistant's arms. "You have another one," he all but growls, "hand me it; I'll go with that one."

The Witch flaps a hand dismissively at him. "That one's only good for communication; he can't do anything except communicate with this Mokona." The man glares and growls wordlessly but makes no further argument, allowing the woman to make a complete, if abbreviated, explanation. "The white Mokona can take you to another dimension, but she can't control where you land; your wish becoming reality will only be by luck. But there are no coincidences in this world, there is only Hitsuzen; the inevitable; you were destined to meet each other."

The small being is beginning to glow, Fai notes somewhere between wary and alert.

"Syaoran," the Witch begins again, her face set in grim lines, and "your payment… is your relationship to that girl. To you the most important thing is not a physical entity, but rather the relationship you share with that girl, so I'll take it." Her expression makes it clear that she takes no more pleasure in this statement than she had when demanding Fai's tattoo or the girls cloak or even Kurogane's sword.

"What does that mean?" The boy, Syaoran, asks somewhat shakily.

The Witch's expression of forced neutrality does not change as she answers. "Even if she gets back all of her memories, you will never have the same relationship with her as you did before." And then, almost gently, "What is she to you?"

He is silent for a time, Fai watches as his eyes slip closed and his hold tightens on the girls shoulder. "My childhood friend, the princess of my country, and…" he almost chokes on a breath, "and someone who is very important to me." It almost sounds as though he wants to cry by this point, and Fai cannot blame him at all for it; in his position, he suspects that he would have been as near to tears as the boy.

"I see," the Witch comments softly, a statement of fact and nothing more. "But, if you are going to use Mokona, that relationship will disappear. Even if you were to return to her all of her memories, the parts about you won't return. That," she concludes grimly into the silence, "is your price."

"I'll go." Syaoran declares without a shred of hesitation, "I won't let Sakura die, no matter what."

The Witch is silent for a moment, taking in the boy's resolve before speaking again. "Traveling through various worlds will be more difficult than you think." She warns, and Fai can't help but wonder if she is _trying_ to discourage the boy. "There are many worlds; for example, each of these people came from different worlds. You can tell by the clothing they wear, you understand? That the worlds you came from are different. People that you know, people from past worlds; they may have different lives in separate worlds. You may meet the same people in many different worlds. Those who were nice to you in one world, you can't be certain will be the same in another." She begins in a tone of lecture. "There are worlds where the language and common sense can't be understood; living standards and rules will also be different in some worlds. For some of the worlds will be full of criminals, lies, or even wars; you have to keep living and passing through these worlds, all while looking for the fragments of the memories lost, not knowing where or when they will all be gathered, or if they ever will be." She smiles again at the boy, and this time the expression is undeniably sincere. "But, you are still steadily determined… right?"

As Fai rather suspected they were all expecting by now, the boy responds with a simple, "Yes."

"Readiness and sincerity, qualities that are indispensable in order to accomplish anything; qualities you are properly provided with." She declares, magic gathering about her and the small being balanced on her palm. "Well then," and the creature grows wings as the magic surges, "please get going."

Mokona Modoki opens its mouth, drawing in great swathes of air and magic, tendrils wrapping about them all; earning more than one startled sound, the boy reflexively clinging tighter to the unconscious girl, Sakura, and Fai clung grimly to his staff and then they were entering a void and the last thing of which the blond was aware was a panicked gasp.


End file.
